


I Will Be There

by Supnitle



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Heavensward, Romance, Spoilers, Stormblood, WoL is a mute fem au ra
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-17
Updated: 2018-08-24
Packaged: 2019-06-26 18:41:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15669018
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Supnitle/pseuds/Supnitle
Summary: **SPOILERS FOR FFXIV: HEAVENSWARD AND ONWARDS**After the events of the Vault, Haurchefant is left in a coma, completely unresponsive, but still alive. He awakens to find a new Ishgard, along with a hero still waiting for his return.(massively self indulgent 'haurchefant lives' fic. OC WoL)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I am flabbergasted I wasn't able to find a lot of fics like this, to be honest. I assumed everyone would want to bring back this perfect boy.
> 
> Heads up, I love Haurchefant and am going to be shipping him with my WoL specifically, since this is mostly a self-indulgent fic, lmao. So, unfortunately, it'll be difficult to just insert your own OC into this situation, but I am hoping you like mine okay anyway! Her name is Garo, she's a mute female xaela from the azim steppe, and her hobbies include crafting classes, painting, and killing people. More info will probably come up for her later in the fic, but for all, that's all you need to know. I ended up keeping her name vague in this first chapter so it could stand alone a little more but it'll be there in later ones, so don't get taken too off guard when it does!
> 
> This chapter also references the Heavensward short story "Thoughts Unspoken," from the Tales from the Dragonsong War collection thing on lodestone. Just so you know!
> 
> I hope you enjoy!
> 
> (also if you've read any of my other fics and want an update I'M SUPER SORRY I plan on getting to them eventually my interests just move around a lot ;;)

It all passed in an instant.

The growing numbness in his abdomen, the fading breath in his lungs -- the regret, the fear, the bittersweet satisfaction of seeing the Warrior of Light hale and whole: all of it melted away into what felt like a pleasant sleep. Haurchefant felt his consciousness fading, though he remained cognizant of the feelings around him. Physically, there was nothing, but he could sense all the swelling emotions around him.

He felt the shock and rage, desperation and panic, the heartbreak -- heartbreak mournful and melancholic, vicious and biting. He could feel his name being called, familiar voices yearning for his return. One, two, twenty - he did not know how many cries he heard. The count was lost, vanishing with the rest of his senses.

After that, there was nothing. It appeared that the world had left him behind. At first, Haurchefant assumed that he had passed away. For a time, he felt a sense of peace, knowing what his death had helped serve to accomplish. That sensation soon faded as he realized his consciousness was still stirring, thinking and functioning within the void of emptiness. Fear seized him as he pondered whether or not this was to be his fate, slowly losing his mind in an empty realm.

A voice whispered.

_“... urchefant…”_

Hello?, he tried to reply, but no words would come, his thoughts stifled into silence by the void.

The voice rang out again, this time clear and true.

_“Haurchefant Greystone.”_

In pitch, the voice was bright, almost warm, but so much heavier in tone, carrying a great weight with every word.

 _“This is not your time,”_ the voice proclaimed. _“Return to your light.”_

With that, the darkness scattered, and Haurchefant felt a breath of air fill his lungs.

* * *

It was the light that woke him up initially, filtering through the windows and pressing against Haurchefant's eyelids. He groaned, adjusting the position of his back, then moved to sit up. He was stopped, alarmingly, by a lack of sensation below his waist. Haurchefant stopped and opened his eyes, groaning as brightness bled into his vision. All at once, he was acutely aware of the myriad aches and pains all across the parts of his body that could still feel. The discomfort was nearly unbearable, despite the soft, yielding surface of the bed beneath him.

He looked up, tilting his head in order to survey his surroundings. He was lodged in a small, comfortable looking room with Ishgardian aesthetics and furniture. There was a small table to his left, along with a well-worn chair and a wooden door in the corner. A large window, the source of the light, sat on the wall to his right, and outside he could plainly see the structures and walls of Foundation, just as he had left it. Next to the window, on the wall across from him, was a painted canvas. He could not immediately make out what the painting was of, however, his vision blurry and unused to the light.

Still taking everything in, Haurchefant failed to notice the door quietly opening until a nurse stepped into the room. Her eyes were downcast, not even sparing a look to Haurchefant until the lord cleared his throat. The nurse snapped to attention, eyes wide with shock. Before she could bring herself to say anything, Haurchefant attempted to speak first.

"Hgk," he gasped. His throat felt constricted, breathing unnatural. It felt as if he had forgotten how to speak entirely.

"Lord Haurchefant is awake," the nurse gasped.

 _Awake?,_ Haurchefant thought. How long had he been asleep?

The nurse turned around, looking into the other room. "Lord Haurchefant is awake!" She called out. Haurchefant laid his head down, hearing the noise of some kind of great ruckus occurring outside at the news. Footsteps were approaching, and it was as if all of the loud energy coming towards him pushed the sleep back into his eyes. Haurchefant slowly began to drift off, though not before he took another glance at the painting. It seemed to be a wide landscape of Foundation with a cloudless sky, painted in a familiar style.

Haurchefant felt a smile grace his lips before he fell asleep once again.

* * *

The answer to his previous question, apparently, was a very long time.

While he had been asleep, the Dragonsong War had ended, Niddhog had been slain again, and Ishgard had become part of the Eorzean alliance. Not to mention that two Garlean territories had been liberated, the son of the emperor killed, and another dozen-or-so primals cut down. The catalyst for the all of these events had, unsurprisingly, been the exact person Haurchefant assumed it would be. It didn't take a terribly long time to get Haurchefant caught up on recent events, and indeed, given how well things seemed to have gone, they were certainly the least of his concerns.

During his long sleep, his muscles had atrophied, as was to be expected. It didn't take too long for him to regain the ability to speak, and his strength would return with time, but the largest concern was his motor ability. Outwardly, the wound in his chest had healed fully -he had the nation's greatest chirurgeons to thank for that- but something had gone awry during the mending of his flesh. Somewhere, his connection to his legs had been damaged, and he had lost the ability to move them. None of the doctors, healers, and scholars his father called in knew whether or not the damage was irreversible, but he would be damned if he lived his life without at least trying to regain his mobility.

Despite this setback, Haurchefant still felt at peace. In those faint moments atop the Vault, he had assumed the wound would be his end, and even in that, he had been satisfied. But now, he had been given another chance to live his life, to see all the friends and family who had missed him dearly. Upon waking up again, he met with Aymeric first, the newly-appointed Speaker of the House of Lords residing the closest to his present lodgings. Aymeric was typically too busy with his new role to visit, but he frequently made time to see his bedridden friend when he could afford it.

All matter of tearful reunions followed after: his family, Francel, the soldiers of Camp Dragonhead. He was surprised, but elated, to see that Emmanellain had taken up his former post. His father welcomed him back with open arms, and everyone took great care in bringing Haurchefant back into the fold. Little time was spent pondering the nature of his injury -- it was a time of celebration, not concern. Haurchefant found himself getting almost lost, catching up on the lives of everyone around him.

Still, in the midst of all this, there was one soul he was impatient to see again. The Scions of the Seventh Dawn were occupied, apparently, with the reconstruction of Ala Mhigo, but word had been sent by messenger that Haurchefant had awoken. From the moment that message was sent out, Haurchefant could not help but habitually glance at the unfinished painting on the wall. He wondered when she would arrive: his friend, his hero, the light he had returned to.

For a week, it was not so. But on the eighth day, Haurchefant opened his eyes to the sound of faint breathing to his side.

The painting on the wall was gone. It sat on an easel to his right, framed by the morning light. In front of the easel sat the Warrior of Light. She was clad not in her battle armor, but her crafter's garb: a white gown adorned with a small black jacket, dressed with accents of blue and gold. She held a brush in one gloved hand and a palette in the other, though she promptly put both down on the end table as she turned her gaze to meet Haurchefant's.

Her bright green eyes lingered on his for a moment, each soaking in the presence of the other. Before Haurchefant could even think to say a word, the Warrior of Light held out a hand, motioning for silence. Haurchefant quickly closed his mouth, suddenly realizing that it had been open, and waited for her to communicate what she wished to.

She reached into a back pocket, pulling out a thin, crumpled envelope and holding it out. Assuming the letter to be the words of his friend, Haurchefant reached out for it, holding it in front of him before realizing that the envelope had been opened long ago. What was more, the insignia on the parchment was of Camp Dragonhead. On the other side, there was a faint scrawl of familiar handwriting designating who the letter had been sent to originally. 

It was the letter he had written to her: the one he had never gotten a chance to send. Haurchefant closed his eyes, remembering the letter's contents.

_And when you have fought the good fight, only to find, yet again, that it is not enough─_

_I will be there._

_This I promise. This I swear._

He opened his eyes and turned to see her smiling widely, eyes brimming with tears. She needed say nothing for him to see that she was thanking him -- thanking him for keeping his promise.

Haurchefant smiled. "My friend," he said, "I - "

His words were interrupted as the Warrior of Light reached forward and embraced him, burying her head into the crook of his neck. Haurchefant sighed softly, wrapping his arms around her.

There was no need for words between them, in that moment.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Recuperation begins.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh my god I wrote a second chapter???? sorry it took so long ;;
> 
> Well, I did the thing I said I would with the first chapter, but from now on I'm just going to refer to my OC WoL by her name. As a reminder, it's Garo, and she's mute, so if you're wondering why she isn't saying anything, that is probably why.
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

Beads of sweat poured down Haurchefant's face, collecting around his chin and dripping to the floor rapidly. He had never thought that the mere act of walking would pull so much effort out of him, but regaining the use of his legs had been a slow-going process thus far, and harder than any training he'd previously. Rather than a sword and shield, the arms at his sides gripped two wooden bars, elevated above the ground, to hold himself up as his legs flopped beneath him. Haurchefant could feel the arms at his waist, helping to hold him up, but nothing below.

His arms quickly gave out, again, and Haurchefant found himself tumbling to the floor. The same pair of arms quickly caught him, and once he had regained his bearings, he looked up to see the concerned face of the Warrior of Light, who was now cradling him in her arms.

Haurchefant smiled. “Thank you,” he said. “Please, help me up.” He pushed down with his arms, trying to move himself to a sitting position. “I would try again - “

He found himself being gently pushed back down. The Warrior of Light wrapped one of her arms, toned from endless combat, around his shoulders before standing and lifting him up. The two of them walked back to the wooden bars before she loosened her grip, allowing Haurchefant to place his hands back on the grips.

They continued this exercise over and over, Haurchefant taking fall after fall. She felt every fall with him, but could not bring herself to stop him, or to leave.The whole time, she watched his face, and he never lost the glint of determination in his eyes, that same stubbornness that had saved her.

As he fell again, and she held him again, he stopped her, looking up into her eyes and speaking her name.

“Garo,” he said.

She looked down at him, tilting her head.

He smiled. “Thank you.”

\---

Garo wouldn’t leave Haurchefant’s side. She would exit the room to allow his assistants to help him get changed in the morning and at night, but otherwise, she was with him, tending to him, helping him to get around. At some point while he’d been in his coma, she’d apparently picked up some skill as a carpenter, constructing a chair with wheels on the sides, along with handles on the back.

She would wheel him around, getting him to where he needed to be throughout the day. He was certainly appreciative of what she’d done, and enjoyed having her with him throughout the day, but he just didn’t feel quite right with their current arrangement.

He brought it up one day while they were in his office, sitting across from each other and eating lunch on his desk. He was dressed in light, simple robes, while she was dressed in her adventuring grab: light armor and cloth in purple and black that she found functional, but comfortable. The mask she usually wore was off, attached to her hip, so Haurchefant was able to look into her eyes as he spoke.

“Garo,” he said.

She paused, swallowing a mouth full of food, and looked at Haurchefant questioningly.

Haurchefant pursed his lips, then said, “My friend, I have greatly appreciated your presence here in my time of need. You have been invaluable in my recovery, and I am very glad you decided to stay here with me.”

Garo smiled, her expression beaming. She nodded once in a way Haurchefant understood to mean, ‘thank you’ or ‘you’re welcome’ or some combination of the two. She then returned to her meal, placing a punctuation mark in the conversation, leaving Haurchefant to figure out how to word his next statement.

“... Erm,” Haurchefant started. “Have you heard from the other Scions, as of late?”

Garo looked up, then shook her head.

“No other matters that require your attention?” He asked.

Garo blinked, then shook her head again, an eyebrow raised inquisitively.

Haurchefant nodded slowly. “I… see.” For the moment, he retreated into his meal, considering how to approach the subject again. For a woman who couldn’t actually speak back, Garo could be quite the difficult person to converse with.

A piece of paper slid across his desk. Haurchefant glanced up to see Garo pushing it towards him with one finger. He looked back down, reading it.

_‘What is it?’_

Haurchefant looked up again. Garo was twirling a pen in one hand, tilting her head curiously. He sighed. She was as perceptive as ever.

"My friend," he said, "though I am... regrettably unwell, I cannot allow the realm's foremost hero to be trapped here in Foundation, nursing me 'till I return to good health." He offered a smile. "Surely, there must be some dungeon out there in need of conquering? Mysteries to solve, damsels to save?"

Garo frowned, mulling over Haurchefant's words. She reached forward, pulling the piece of paper back, scrawling out another note on it before pushing it forward again.

 _'I want to be here.'_ it said.  _'I trust the other Scions to tell me if I am needed.'_

Haurchefant read the note, then read it again. As he thought it over silently, Garo quickly pulled the paper back and slowly scrawled out another note. This one read:

_'Would you rather I leave?"_

Haurchefant looked back up at Garo. She had taken on a rare look of hesitation, staring off to the side, not making eye contact. Haurchefant shook his head. "Of course not," he reassured her. "You are a dear friend, and I am better for your presence. I simply worry for the greater good. But, if things are as you say... I have no reason to refuse your staying here."

Garo smiled before leaning forward and writing another note on the piece of paper. She then placed the pen back down on the desk, returning to her meal. Haurchefant didn't even need to turn the paper around to see what it said, smiling as he read it.

_'Thank you.'_

 


End file.
